His Coat
by Alis Volat Propris
Summary: Misao couldn’t help it. There was something oh so sexy and appealing about coats, particularly his coat. Saitou/Misao Oneshot


AN: It's kind of my goal with one shots to find a new way to kill Tokio each and every time. Someday I might write a home wrecking Saitou Misao fic but until then, Tokio must die! Coats are one of my favorite things about men. I figured Misao could share in the appreciation of it.

Misao couldn't help it. There was something oh so sexy and appealing about coats. She blamed the Oniwabanshuu for it, really. Hannya, Beshimi and Shikijo had always had coats and had wrapped her in their coats when she was very young. She reveled in the feel of them, had taken naps in them. They really had been her security blankets at the time of her youth. She wasn't attached to stuffed animals, but coats. And not just any coats but her men's coats. Her Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijo and Aoshi's coats. Hyotoko never wore coats because he was always warm.

She would be lulled to sleep surrounded by the warmth and comfort of her men. She wouldn't sleep well without one of them. Aoshi's coat had always been the warmest because she could curl up in it. It acted like a little sleeping bag for her that she would roll herself up in like a cocoon. She could remember falling asleep to the comforting scent of him. Perhaps that was it? That every coat held the distinctive man's scent, something of the person who wore it that reminded her of them. It was like taking a piece of them with her always.

It was little wonder with all of that attention in her youth that she'd developed a coat fixation. She'd found herself drawn to men who wore coats. Her eyes looked for those kinds of people in the crowd without her explicitly knowing. In her youth when Misao had been sixteen years old she had always fantasized herself in Aoshi's rather large and bulky trench coat. Alas that had was not meant to be. First off, that trench coat had been butchered through the beatings Aoshi had taken in it. It was well beyond saving after the Shishio incident. Second off, it never would have fit her anyways, as she was far too short. An image of herself swimming in the coat and tripping over it briefly flashed in her mind and Misao sighed dismayed, but only briefly. Even the dream of being Aoshi's bride had fallen through as Aoshi had married one kitsune doctor.

Though certainly depressed on the rather abrupt situation, she was still Makimachi Misao. She did not let the event get her down for long. She had her life to live and began to do so. Misao started to live a life that didn't revolve around Shinomori Aoshi. It was a much needed change and allowed for Misao to grow into the beautiful woman she already really was. And of course Misao realized something very important. She didn't like trench coats. She simply didn't fit in them and the cocoon image of heer childhood was simply not sexy. She gave up on the trench coat idea.

It was a silly fantasy after all, right? Who dreamed about wrapping themselves in their man's coat? With Aoshi's wedding, Misao had thought that her coat fantasy had died and she was more than willing to accept that. Only she realized that she was _still_ attracted to men in coats, just not trench coats. More importantly on this journey of self observation and study was that she was now particular about the style of coats they wore. This was a new development for Misao, as she found that she was drawn to the western style of coats.

This shouldn't have surprised her, as her family members of old had worn western style coats and so the feel of them was simply familiar and comforting. But trench coats were a no go. So Misao ran with her new found information and decided to test her theory out. The first few men who had decided to suit her had haori. They all had offered them and to Misao's credit she had tried them, but it just wasn't the same. Misao had crinkled her nose at them. Haori were _not_ the same as the western coats she preferred, and Misao simply found that there was no equal, or substitute for a good warm western style coat.

In her many blunders at suiting, and there were, indeed for Okina was absolutely no good at matchmaking; Misao also discovered that uniforms of any sort were doubly appealing. She couldn't help it. Nearly all men in uniform had a good coat to go with it, whether nobility or otherwise. With most of the officials moving towards a western style, it was hardly surprising that the military and government officials as well as police officers bore the western styled coats. All coats had to match the uniform so it was a necessity to have a good one and all the military men and police officers that she'd seen had them.

There was something about coats that just screamed masculinity to Misao. Men always looked so good in them. The other plus about being attracted to men within government positions was that most of them were fit enough to wear the uniform well. Having a man who was fit, who could keep up with Misao was equally important. She didn't want to marry some slob. She wanted someone strong and fierce. Misao had always loved western coats but this had taken that thought to a whole new level. She hadn't considered eying the government officers or police officers yet. It made her see them in a whole new light as they had changed over for the more western style uniforms.

So it was absolutely earth shattering to realize one day that Makimachi Misao found that one Saitou Hajime, attractive. It was a stray thought that had brushed her mind as she took him in for the first time in several years since the Kyoto incident. Her eyes immediately went for the coat that he wore and how good looking it was on him. How it filled his broad shoulders making them stand out. She hadn't noticed his face as she'd come at him from behind in the marketplace, and she had been admiring his oh so delicious posterior when he'd turned and Misao realized exactly who it was.

She realized that she had been _oogling_ one Mibu Ookami. It was Saitou's delicious posterior that filled out those uniform pants and that wonderful jacket. Oh gods. Misao. Had. Just. Checked. Out. _Saitou_!!!!!!

Saitou had given Itachi an odd stare and started their normal banter as he lit a cigarette. Since he'd been in Kyoto the police and Oniwabanshuu had been teaming up more. It was typical for them to run into each other on occasion. Misao had participated bantering and blabbering, but as they fell into companionable silence, she took the opportunity to gaze at him from beneath her veiled black lashes. Saitou was a fine figure of a man, tall and thin and his coat did wonders for his frame, especially with the collar on it. Misao particularly liked the golden brass colored buttons. Those long black bangs that framed his face gave him a darker look. His skin was more tan than the average Japanese person as he was out and about more, slaying evil and such. And of course his amber eyes were bright and deep set within his thin face. She realized with another start that she didn't regret checking him out.

Perhaps it shouldn't have struck her as odd as it did at first. She did have a thing for tall dark men. For pete sakes' she had been attracted to Aoshi for too many years not to still be attracted to the tall and dark look. Maybe she had a thing for men with a dark past, she wondered as she thought on her predicament. That might have been true. But the thing that had most assuredly sold her for Hajime was his coat.

The police officer uniform was nothing super special or fancy. It shouldn't have drawn her like it did. But the simplicity of it in a sea of coats that had become loud and stylish did make him stand apart. And Saitou was that sort of man, to be a presence within the crowd even when he didn't want people to notice him. Perhaps it was her ninja training that drew her eye to him as well. After all, he carried his sword with him and you'd have to be a complete idiot not to sense his swordsman's ki. Misao had been most upset however, to find that western coats were very stylish indeed and that people were wearing coats that did _not _look good on them or suit their colors. It made people who had found good coats and wore good coats well stand out that much more.

Misao had grown to love Saitou's particular coat. It was the feel of it. So soft, and yet firm cloth used in it's making. And of course, the worn feeling of it made it cozy. New coats weren't very appealing to Misao. They lacked character. His coat was perfection itself. It was always warm enough for her, had just the right weight to it, and she didn't swim in it, but it settled nicely around her upper thighs, keeping part of her legs warm. Saitou had a tendency to go through his uniforms but his coat he usually managed to salvage.

His coat always smelled like him. And she was surprised to discover that Saitou Hajime smelled _very _good indeed, sweaty, bloody or not, even with the smoke which became more appealing the longer she was around him. The smoke mixed with his other smells that always brought him to her mind when she smelled them. Of course there was also the fact that she had such good memories in his coat. When he'd first given her his coat, it was on a cold night.

They had been working on a mission together, 2 years after his wife had apparently jumped off a cliff and they had been caught in the first snow of the season. Misao, though she had worn a jacket was freezing, her teeth chattering from the cold. Saitou, irritated and remarking about frozen weasels and their idiotic tendencies to not dress appropriately, had shrugged off his coat and placed it on her shoulders as he'd lit up a cigarette.

While she could smell the smoke in the fabric, she could also detect the woodsy scent of sandalwood, a personal favorite of hers, and the musky scent of old sweat and even the coppery tang of blood on it. That probably should have disturbed her, but as Misao had grown up in coats that had seen battle, it didn't. All of them combined were oddly… comforting. Saitou had a very masculine smell and she had breathed in the intoxicating scent, bringing the jacket closer to her as she sighed in contentment that night.

He had walked her home after their work and she had only slightly protested to keeping his jacket for the evening. He had told her it was better for weasels not to become icicles than for him to have his jacket back. Misao had fallen asleep in it accidentally, and that was the start of it. She had given him his coat back a few days later. If he wondered why she'd kept it for possibly longer than she should have, he said nothing more. It wasn't as appealing if it didn't smell like him and thus the reason for the return. But three days later there had been a cold rain and another excursion featuring both wolf and weasel. He had placed the coat over their heads to keep her dry, whilst tucking her safe, underneath his arm as they walked in the street.

Misao decided she liked being close to him, his arm draped around her. They had sought shelter underneath one of the roof awnings. Cold still, he had placed the jacket, though a little wet, around her shoulders again. Misao had slept soundly that night, his coat around her. It was little surprise that their first kiss had been shared whilst she was wearing his coat. Saitou Hajime, a man who she had previously thought to be cold and uncaring had grabbed the lapels of his own coat and brought her close, wrapping those gloved hands around her.

He had initiated their kiss underneath the moonlight. He had wrapped the coat tighter around her after he released his hypnotizing hold on her lips, her mind and her heart. He assisted her in buttoning up the jacket as she had shivered half from desire and half from the cold without his warmth near her. Saitou was an astute man, apparently having picked up on the fact that she was asking for his coat whenever she was with him. After effectively sealing her in the coat, to which she didn't protest, he leaned down, pressing those thin lips to her own and kissed her senseless. Misao shivered from the thought of it. She loved the worn feel of his coat around her, and loved it even more when he had wrapped his arms around her whilst in his coat and kissed her as thoroughly as he did.

She had never expected Saitou to be such an affectionate man. But it shouldn't have surprised her. Saitou was passionate about the things he cared for. Misao was grateful to be one of those cherished things. Many kisses were shared in that coat, and so obviously she treasured it. The first night he had made love to her, Misao had regrettably pushed that coat off of him and placed it on a chest at the foot of the bed to keep it off the floor whilst she preoccupied herself with him. Now after waking up in the arms of one apparently very affectionate wolf, who still had his arms wrapped around her and nuzzled her in his sleep, Misao eyed the coat.

A grin lit on her face, she carefully disentangled herself from his loving grip and slid the coat on, loving the way it felt on her bare skin. She saw his belt, and looped that around the waist, effectively tying it. His coat could have been a short dress for her as she eyed herself in the mirror. She loved it.

Hands wrapped around her from behind pulling her firmly against a taut half naked body covered by a sheet. Hajime nibbled her neck as he took in the sight of his coat on her.

"You sure you didn't just take me for the coat?" He quipped eyes taking in the decent amount of leg she was revealing in his coat.

He wouldn't lie. He_ liked_ the look of her in his clothes. It was definitely male of him, but he couldn't care at the moment.

Misao grinned and picked up the hat, placing it on her head as she stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Maybe the uniform was some of the appeal" She grinned as she held her hands out modeling her makeshift dress. His eyes strayed back to her creamy legs.

"That's a shame. And here I thought you wanted me for my body" Saitou grinned.

"That's another part of it" She giggled, as she turned, braid flapping behind her as she figured it was time to be getting up and making breakfast. Saitou had other plans and latched onto her arm, pulling her back into his arms against him.

"And the last?" He asked, curious at that look in her eyes, a look he had registered long ago but wasn't certain she wanted to acknowledge it yet. It was nerve wracking.

Saitou had second guessed himself the first time he had caught Itachi checking him out. It had caught him off guard. He hadn't expected her to consider him appealing. Through their many encounters, many of which required him to grudgingly give up his cherished police coat to her, he had wondered. Was it possible for Misao to want him? Age certainly had a bearing in it, but the girl had never been intimidated by age. She was beautiful and grew into that beauty with every day. Undoubtably she was annoying but he was never bored by her either.

He supposed some bad had to come with the good that was Makimachi Misao. Emboldened by her absolute refusal to go away, her incessant praddling and her stubborn optimism (also her subtly veiled glances) he had decided to take a chance with her. After all getting to know her was beneficial to a healthy working relationship. He'd discovered though along the way that he liked her angry. She was a feisty little thing, and capable of so much more than he had originally deduced. Oh yes she was a little spitfire, a minx in weasels clothing. How he had resisted making her his for this long must have been divine interference.

"Maybe I love you?" She blurted, as she placed her hands tentatively on his chest, looking up at him with those blue green eyes.

Saitou flat out smirked, smug as hell, as his hands undid his belt from her lithe waist as he kissed her dumb foundingly stupid. It was about damn time that she'd finally been honest with him. He exulted in the feelings coursing through him at her confession and decided that breakfast and everything else could wait. He made short work of the coat, unfastening the buttons and was about to throw it to the floor, when she muffly protested in their kiss grabbing it before it could fall, placing it on the chest again as she pushed him to the bed.

"You really _did_ want me for the bloody coat" Saitou scowled, but she had kissed him again and all other thoughts were put aside for later. He wouldn't forget.


End file.
